The Driftwood wasn’t favoured by Starfleet officers on Gateway Station, so its ebbs and flows of activity didn’t hew to shift patterns like many establishments on the station’s arcade. It meant the Rooks could walk in fresh off debriefing, in what the alpha shift would consider the middle of the day, and the bar was in full swing.

‘Full swing’ in the Driftwood still only meant a gentle buzz of activity, a holographic jazz band on the low stage, but they could grab a booth against the wall and Rosewood acknowledged it was his turn to get the drinks. When he returned with only three bottles of beer, handing one each to Cassidy and Nallera and holding onto the third, Aryn sat up with indignation.

‘Nothing for me?’

‘I’ve got something for you. Be patient,’ Rosewood said enigmatically, glancing around the bar. ‘It’s odd,’ he pressed on to change the topic and avoid interrogation. ‘Going through something like this and now we’re just… in a bar. Around normal people.’

‘Isn’t that Starfleet life?’ grunted Nallera, kicking back with her beer.

‘Normally the bar is full of other people who went through at least some of what you went through. But there’s no bar on the Blackbird. Just a mess hall and our lounge and only fifteen other people aboard.’ Rosewood shook his head. ‘We shoot around the galaxy doing crazy things alone, but we don’t even have that little… fortress you get from a starship.’

‘We got a fortress,’ said Cassidy in a low, cool voice. He waved the beer around the table. ‘It’s this.’

Nallera’s lips curled. ‘Wow, Boss. That was positively gushing. Going soft in your old age?’

‘Esprit de corps keeps us all alive,’ Cassidy drawled, but his gaze went serious as he sat up. ‘We should take a moment, though. There’s only four of us here today. Last time we were here, we were five.’ He tilted his bottle to the middle. ‘To Jessa Tiran. Best damn poker player I ever met.’

Nallera sighed and lifted her bottle, too. ‘Jessa. Drove like a demon.’

‘I…’ Aryn glanced around, giving Rosewood a brief, pointed look, before he raised the bowl of peanuts to the middle. ‘To Tiran. An excellent shot. A top-class problem solver. An invaluable teammate.’

Rosewood hesitated. They still had no idea when Tiran had been replaced by the Changeling; for all he knew, he’d never met the real Tiran, had only known the impostor. But even if that were true, he’d known a facade the others hadn’t seen through. Known a facsimile that had convinced those who’d known her best. Was that the same thing?

Not in truth. But, perhaps, in feeling. He lifted his bottle. ‘To Jessa Tiran. Smart. Funny, in a dry sort of way. Kind, in a “I also kill people for the good of the Federation” way. Triple-threat, really.’

Cassidy gave a low snort. ‘You’re an idiot,’ he said, but clinked his beer bottle against Rosewood’s, and they all drank. Aryn ate peanuts.

‘Any idea what comes next?’ said Nallera, putting her bottle down, clearly keen to move on.

‘Gotta wait and see how the dust settles with the Syndicate. A lot of movers and shakers have been cleaned out by Starfleet’s op,’ said Cassidy. ‘Maybe we’ll be on mopping up. Maybe something else that’s a problem.’

Aryn looked to Rosewood. ‘Did you order me a drink that’s coming, or…’

‘Not a drink… ah.’ Rosewood spotted movement through the glass front of the bar, a recognising a figure approaching through the Arcade crowds, and elbowed Aryn. ‘A beautiful woman’s about to walk in. You’re about to take her on a date. Not here. Go to the Foxglove, it’s fancy there and you can… probably get away with it.’ He looked Aryn up and down, then nodded. Aryn’s propensity for shirts and sports jackets even off-duty was holding him in good stead for a surprise visit to Gateway’s nicest cocktail bar.

‘A date… what?’

‘You said you’re bad with women, you had a hard time this mission and need brightening up… and she’s smart and Starfleet and so isn’t going to think your job or a Rook is weird or your experiences as a science officer are too boring and technical. There we go,’ Rosewood finished as a blonde woman in what he deemed an incredibly judiciously selected ‘first date’ dress walked in. He waved her over. ‘Elsa!’

Aryn’s eyes narrowed. ‘I didn’t ask for -’

‘Go out. Have a drink. Have fun. With someone who’s not going to look at you funny or judge you,’ Rosewood hissed, and straightened with a smile as the woman reached them. ‘Mac, this is Lieutenant Elsa Lindgren, USS Endeavour. Elsa, this is Lieutenant Mac Aryn, science specialist, enterprising action nerd.’

Lindgren gave Rosewood a look that suggested she was wise to his antics, though he wasn’t convinced she knew exactly what those antics were, but turned to Aryn with a smile. ‘He’s ambushed you into this, huh?’

Aryn flushed. ‘I’m – apologies, Lieutenant, but no, I wasn’t given much notice -’

‘Elsa,’ she corrected with light amusement. ‘I still cleared my schedule for an evening out. You won’t let John be such a rascal I’ve wasted my night, still?’

‘I…’

‘We can go to the Foxglove. Have a drink. And give it enough of a try that he won’t bug you about it tomorrow.’

Rosewood stared at Aryn. ‘Wow. I set you up on a date with a gorgeous woman and you act like I’ve had cloaked Jem’hadar jump out at you.’

Aryn swallowed, and got to his feet. ‘You’re right,’ he said, then winced and turned to Lindgren. ‘Elsa, you’re right. Not him. I’d rather not acknowledge him. Let’s go for a drink.’

Rosewood smirked happily into his beer as they left, and Nallera barely waited until they were out the door before guffawing.

‘You’re a menace, John,’ she chuckled.

‘Huh,’ said Cassidy.

‘What?’ Rosewood straightened, a little defensive. ‘He’s had a hard mission. Got played around with by a gorgeous Orion girl. I know what I’m doing; Elsa Lindgren might be the sweetest but smartest officer I’ve met. He needs someone who’s going to do some emotional heavy lifting for him, but isn’t going to be weird about him or his job.’

Nallera nodded, still snickering. ‘He’s got a point.’

‘He does,’ said Cassidy, still looking guarded. ‘That wasn’t what I was thinking.’

‘What were you thinking?’

It was his turn to look up to the door to the bar, and Rosewood saw his expression twitch. ‘That the universe has got a judicious sense of timing, though maybe not a funny enough one.’

Rosewood looked over, and his eyebrows shot up as he saw Q’ira threading through the crowd to join them. ‘Hey… stranger,’ he drawled, too wrong-footed to have a more diplomatic greeting than that.

She gave him a flat look. ‘You putting on the right face for any occasion sometimes runs out of battery power, doesn’t it.’ He sputtered as Nallera snickered, and she turned to Cassidy, expression not changing. ‘You win. I’m in.’

‘Excellent,’ said Cassidy, and nodded to the seat Aryn had vacated. ‘Sit down. Let Rosewood get you a drink.’

‘I – in what?’ Rosewood sputtered.

‘He’s not that bright, either, is he?’ said Nallera, who looked like she’d caught on, or was just pretending.

‘I -’

‘Get the girl a drink,’ Cassidy repeated.

‘Make it a cocktail, something fruity,’ Q’ira said with a waggle of the fingers. ‘I might be about to lower my quality of life, but there are some compromises a girl just can’t make.’

By the time Rosewood had ventured to and from the bar, putting a spiral glass of something bright pink in front of her, the penny had dropped. He looked at Cassidy before voicing anything, not wanting to risk being wrong. ‘Have you done what I think you’ve done?’

‘If you mean, brought on a random Orion girl as his fifth team member for reasons which escape everyone?’ drawled Q’ira, sipping her drink. ‘Yes. And I’m part of everyone. At least I’ll make us look good. That’s something, right?’

‘Yeah,’ grunted Cassidy, leaning forward. ‘You’re eye-candy and you were paraded around on Torrad-Var’s arm like you were ornamental, and you’re good at that. To the point everyone underestimated you, including us. I can use that. You’re also a liar and a thief. I can use that, too.’

‘What he means,’ drawled Rosewood, gathering his composure again, ‘is that we’re all thieves and liars here, so you’ll fit in.’

‘Hey!’ Nallera sat up. ‘I’m neither!’

Rosewood winked at her. ‘Stole my heart, didn’t you?’

She laughed, then raised a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, hey, Aryn will want to know – but should we interrupt him?’

Q’ira glanced between them. ‘Interrupt what?’

‘He’s got a longer debriefing,’ said Rosewood effortlessly. ‘All that work with the Kairos Regulator.’ It wasn’t a lie that would last forever. But it was a lie that could get him through the rest of the drinks. He looked at Cassidy. ‘You’re not going to get in trouble for us failing to recover that, right?’

‘Command wasn’t thrilled,’ Cassidy acknowledged.

‘It’s almost as if,’ sniffed Q’ira, ‘Starfleet thinks dangerous technology isn’t dangerous in their hands.’

‘You’ve got a point,’ said Nallera, ‘but the Changeling did try to use the Regulator to change time, so that is pretty dangerous.’

‘And even with those modifications, Starfleet isn’t relieved it got blown up?’

Cassidy snorted. ‘She’s got a point. But our decisions are justified. Having Galcyon’s word behind us for the final stages helps.’ He grabbed his beer. ‘Guess this means it’s time for the second toast. To our newest Rook.’

As the others raised their drinks, Q’ira gave an airy sigh and picked up her cocktail. ‘Roaming the galaxy, righting wrongs for the good of the Federation, living on a tiny flying military box… I used to be a kept woman, you know? This is a downgrade.’ But she tilted her head this way and that with a gleam of pleasure that Rosewood, at least, could spot in her eye. ‘I suppose it’ll do.’

‘Sterling recommendation like that,’ Rosewood drawled, lifting his beer aloft. ‘How can the Rooks fail?’